


Stuck In The Middle With You

by A_M_Kelley



Series: Cliche AUs And Where To Shitpost Them [11]
Category: Reservoir Dogs (1992)
Genre: Alley Sex, Banter, Biting, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, Flirting, Freddy actually isn't too smart in retrospect, Hair-pulling, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mr. Blonde is surprisingly very tame in this fic, Original Title is Original, Prostitution, Rough Sex, Sexual Tension, Sloppy Seconds, Unsafe Sex, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-20 22:55:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6028543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_M_Kelley/pseuds/A_M_Kelley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Freddy was plenty of things. Freddy was a nineteen year old high school dropout with no real life goals, or ambition for that matter, and he was lazy to boot with questionable morals, but he wasn’t stupid.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stuck In The Middle With You

**Author's Note:**

> After two months of not writing a single word, I come back and I'm better than ever baby... Or maybe I'm not... There's a good chance I'm still the same mediocre writer, but whatevs. I'm back, nonetheless.

Freddy was a nineteen year old high school dropout with no real life goals, or ambition for that matter, and he was lazy to boot. He was never cut out for one of those fancy office jobs, besides he hated wearing suits or anything that could be identified as a uniform. Freddy also didn’t like the idea of flipping burgers on a salary that couldn’t even support a mutt. Which is why he resorted to the luxurious and glamorous lifestyle of whoring himself out.

Tonight in particular had been long for Freddy, no pun intended, and all he wanted was to have a drink and go home, but he knew as soon as he stepped into the bar some prick was going to try and pick him up. He should be more than used to it, but he had been around this neighborhood long enough to build up a reputation.

Freddy had rules about what he did and didn’t do and all the regulars knew when he punched out for the night. But there were still some assholes that obviously couldn’t take the hint that he was off the menu, or that no meant no. Freddy has never been harmed on the job, but there have been instances in which he was nearly attacked because some prick he was playing hard to get.

His job was dangerous from time to time and it often left him anxious, but Freddy could hold his own even if he was smaller than the average man. He wasn’t very intimidating, mind you, but men often found him to be quite feisty and Freddy supposed they liked that sort’ve thing. Which means they occasionally respected him enough to not try anything ballsy. Except for one man, that is.

Freddy emerges from the alleyway finally, long after his last customer has nervously stuffed a wad of random bills in his hand and departed hastily. He sometimes had newbies, but not as often, and it also amused him to see how embarrassed and inexperienced they were. Some of them were men around his age, experimenting for the first time, others were high strung, married men already committed in an unfulfilling relationship. And it surprised Freddy how totally different those two encounters usually were.

The men experimenting for the first time would often be too scared to be overly rough with him, which means they were usually gentle and Freddy actually enjoyed that on occasion. The married men were the opposite. Most of these men had gone without sex for a prolonged amount of time because they were estranged from their wives, causing them to be a little more rough with Freddy. Which Freddy also didn’t mind, to an extent.

Freddy stepped out onto the sidewalk, thumbing through his catch for the night. He counted it all once and then once again for good measured, grimacing a little at the final amount. It certainly hadn’t been his best night, but Freddy usually did better than one-fifty. If he wasn’t mistaken, tonight had been an all time low for him. It’s not like he really needed the money right away. Freddy wasn’t dumb enough to start a nasty drug habit, but he liked a little extra insurance.

Netting a lot of money occasionally meant he could take a few days off without any worries. Taking a day or two off was often necessary when clients would get too carried away and leaves marks on him and nobody liked a marked up whore. Especially hickies. Hickies were a sign of Freddy being someone else's property. Freddy, personally, liked hickies, but some of the men didn’t like the idea of other people claiming or touching him. Men preferred to be under the illusion that Freddy was only theirs, even when they still knew he was just a whore.

Freddy quickly pocketed his wad of randomized, dirty bills and ran a hand through his slightly disheveled hair in hopes of correcting it a little. There were a few men loitering outside the front of the bar, chatting away about some football game, as Freddy lit up a cigarette to calm his still wired nerves. He inhaled and then exhaled deeply with closed eyes, cracking a lid open to see that one of the men was eyeing him provocatively. Freddy makes a sarcastic face at the man as if to say _what’re you looking at?_. This quickly discourages the man and he reluctantly turns back to the conversation at hand.

Freddy takes a few more drags and stomps out the rest of his cigarette before he makes his way into the bar. Most of the bars around town will throw him out on the spot for being under twenty-one, but Freddy had a deal worked out with the owner here. No questions asked and free drinks as long as he paid a visit to the owner’s back room at the end of every week. Freddy lived a less than charmed existence, but he knew how the world worked and you didn’t get anywhere in life without exchanging favors here and there.

He walks up to the counter and nods over towards the bartender, receiving a nod back in return, and waits for the barkeep to come back with a beer. Freddy takes a seat at one of the barstools, drumming his knuckles on the countertop and tapping his foot, as he spares a look around the seedy establishment. He notices that a couple of his customers are still milling around, but they pay him no attention as they are too wrapped up in sports or conversation. Which is totally cool with Freddy, he’d rather not be approached right now anyway.

The bartender comes back with a beer, popping the top off and setting it down in front of Freddy with a wink. Even with the type of business he’s associated with, Freddy is not beyond blushing on occasion when a cute guy subtly flirts with him just for the sake of flirting and not expecting anything else to come of it. Not that Freddy wouldn’t mind sleeping with the bartender, the man is actually kind of cute, but that’s the farthest thing from his mind at the moment.

Tonight hadn’t been very fruitful, but it still felt as if Freddy had been used more times than a commode on a Saturday night. Freddy took a swig of his beer, rolling it around in his mouth for a moment to get the bitter taste out, swallowing soon after. One beer turns into a few and before Freddy can even notice it, a man comes up to sit next to him.

He isn’t nearly drunk enough yet to be at a disadvantage, Freddy is buzzing, but he’s still fully aware of his surroundings. Freddy had been too in the zone to notice the man at first and when he feels a presence shift beside him he immediately jerks his head to the side, recognizing the familiar face sitting beside him.

“Hey, kiddo,” the man greets in a monotone voice.

“Vic,” Freddy acknowledges with a hint of surprise. “What the hell are _you_ doing here? I thought Nice Guy kicked you out last week?”

“That was last week,” Vic replies like a smartass, knocking back a shot. Freddy watches him with a skeptical gaze, expecting Vic to elaborate more. “Lets just say, you have your deals with Eddie and I have mine.”

“Since when does Nice Guy need you for anything?” Freddy challenges, distrusting of anything Vic says.

Vic was a snake in the grass and a sadist on top of that, so Freddy found it hard to believe anything the man said. He had a few run-ins with Vic before since Vic was a local and on all those occasions Vic had tried to pick him up, but the man had a reputation. If there was ever a line Freddy had to draw in the sand, it would have to be hooking up with Vic Vega. Freddy heard stories through the other working boys about what Vic liked to do with boys. But that was just hearsay.

“Believe it or not, me and Eddie happen to be longtime friends. I’ve worked for him and his dad for many years,” Vic explains and this somehow makes Freddy even more uneasy. “I happen to be very useful for their type of work.”

Freddy was both literally and figuratively screwed if Vic was in cahoots with Nice Guy Eddie _and_ Joe Cabot. One word from Vic and Freddy could be finished in this town. This changed everything, Freddy realized. Somehow, this didn’t scare him as much as it should have though.

“But enough about me, what brings you out tonight, doll?” Vic inquires, casually changing the subject. “Or should I say _’in’_?”

“Just enjoying a few drinks… or at least _trying_ to anyway,” Freddy retorts with a snappy tone.

Vic smirks at the kid’s petulance, loving the way he comes off at a brat despite knowing his connection to Joe Cabot. He’s got a fiery attitude to match his youth and if that doesn’t get Vic excited, he doesn’t know what will.

“I gotta say, I'm not used to seeing something other than a dick in your mouth,” Vic quips, uncaring of how rude or degrading it sounds.

“Oh wow, do you always say such nice things?” Freddy asks sarcastically as his cheeks heat up slightly, but he’s otherwise unfazed.

“Only to cute whores like you,” Vic discloses in a husky tone, leaning in marginally to make Freddy flustered.

“How flattering…” Freddy says with a roll of his eyes. “I bet you’re really popular with the other boys.”

“You have _no_ idea,” Vic draws out, leaving it up to interpretation.

“If that’s the case, then why don’t you bother one of the others?” Freddy inquires, trying to make it obvious that he’s not interested in what Vic has in mind. “I mean, since you have such a way with words.”

“Maybe I want something different,” Vic says, shrugging slightly. “I hear nothing but good things about you.”

“Sorry stud, but I'm off the clock,” Freddy deflects, seeing the proposal coming a mile away. It wasn’t the first time Vic tried it and it wouldn’t be the last. “Thanks for the offer, though.”

“I bet I could change your mind,” Vic proposes, a hint of a challenge in his voice.

Freddy looks over at Vic from behind his bangs with a curious glint in his eyes, smirking a little when he notices how hot and bothered Vic seems to be this close to him. Freddy wasn’t used to making someone like Vic want him so bad before. Vic seems like the kind of guy who always got his way and being denied something he wanted really bad was sort of satisfying.

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Freddy tells him, and he mostly means it.

“Just name your price, kid,” Vic insists, not taking no for an answer.

“You couldn’t afford me,” Freddy brushes off, turning to face Vic fully now.

“You shouldn’t think so highly of yourself, kitten,” Vic muses, trying to get under Freddy’s skin, but the boy is analysing and sharp.

“Why not?” Freddy asks, shifting his posture so that he’s flirting with the border of his and Vic’s personal space. “Everyone wants me, including you. You should be so lucky I'm even talking to you.”

“You’re flirting with a bull, baby. Better be careful about the tone you use,” Vic warns, but it doesn’t faze Freddy.

“Or what? I'll get the horns?” Freddy laughs, unthreatened by Vic’s meaningless words. “I’m not afraid of you or Eddie.”

He isn’t aware that he’s slowly getting closer and closer to Vic as the conversation heats up and he finds himself craving for that thin grey line between playful banter and poking the bear. There was something exciting about pushing a man like Vic to the limit.

“You’re a sexy little thing when you’re all feisty,” Vic admires, reaching a hand out towards the one Freddy has on the countertop. “I can’t imagine what you must be like in the sack.”

“And you’ll never know,” Freddy teases, getting in Vic’s face to taunt the man to near insanity.

“You’re breaking my heart, baby,” Vic whines, feigning hurt as he clutches at where his heart should be.

“Funny, I didn't think you still had ones of those,” Freddy retorts, pushing his luck even more.

“Maybe not, but I got plenty below the belt to make up for that,” Vic offers suggestively, running his fingertips over over Freddy’s knuckles.

“It’s not the size of your dick I'm after,” Freddy tells him honestly, leaning in extra close so that his voice is reduced to a deep murmur of hot breath. “I’m more interested in the size of your wallet. You of all people should know that, Vicky-boy.”

“Then I suppose you’re in luck, princess,” Vic mocks right back, so close to Freddy that he can almost taste the alcohol on the kid’s lips.

“Is that so?” Freddy inquires with controlled interest, batting his lashes a little more than he means to. His pupils dilating. “Since you want me so bad, how much are you willing to pay for it?”

“I’ll pay a hundred. Fuck it, I’ll double it,” Vic adds without hesitation.

“Bullshit,” Freddy scoffs, disbelieving but heart racing at the same time at the possibility of Vic putting his money where his mouth is. “Since when do you got that kinda money?”

“I told you, I work for the Cabots, baby,” Vic reiterates, placing his other hand on Freddy’s jean clad thigh up near his groin. “And business is a-booming.”

“Prove it, then,” Freddy dares, challenging Vic as he mimics the older man’s movement by running a hand up and down Vic’s leg.

“Damn, baby. You want me to whip it out right here?” Vic teases, gripping Freddy’s thigh a little more firmly.

“Slow down, big guy,” Freddy says, pushing Vic’s hand away. “Cash first.”

Vic searches Freddy’s face, squinting for a moment before retracting both of his hands from Freddy to retrieve his wallet from his suit jacket pocket. Vic thumbs through a few loose bills before fishing out two crisp hundred dollar bills. He flashes them in front of Freddy’s face, noticing the way the kid’s eyes dilate and follow them whenever he moves them back and forth. Freddy licks his lips and tentatively reaches for them only to get them snatched away from him.

“If you want it…” Vic states, unzipping his fly and casually stuffs the money into his pants before zipping back up “...you gotta work for it first.”

Freddy bites his lip, contemplating Vic’s proposal and weighing the pros and cons. On one hand, he can net himself an extra two hundred dollars after such a fruitless night. On the other, he might get raped and left dead in a ditch while Eddie covers it up, showing exactly what a _”Nice Guy"_ he is. Was two hundred dollars really worth it?

Maybe not, but fuck it.

Freddy doesn’t have shit, so what’s he got to lose?

“Whaddya have in mind?” Freddy inquires without hesitation, placing a hand on Vic’s knee provocatively.

“We take a walk to somewhere nice and private and you gimme that tight little ass of yours,” Vic says, not leaving anything to the imagination. “You let me nail that ass good and proper and you get to walk away with two hundred bucks. Whaddya say, kid?”

“There’s a side alley right next to this place,” Freddy suggests. It’s a place he’s taken many of clients before and Freddy really doesn't feel like taking Vic back to his place. For safety measures, of course. “You gimme two minutes to _freshen up_ and I'll meet you out there and _all_ of this is yours, baby.”

“You got yourself a deal, kitten,” Vic acknowledges with a pleased smile and a quick wink, standing up to get himself straightened out. “Don’t make me wait too long, sweet thing.”

He watches Vic’s retreating form until he ducks out the front door, prompting Freddy to nervously look around before making off to the commode. Once inside, he quickly locks himself in, nerves still thrumming from the lust and adrenaline Vic coaxed out of him. His hands were even shaking a little from how on edge he felt right now.

Freddy’s never met such a charismatic man before to the point where he talked him into breaking his own rules. Because when Freddy was done for the night, he was done, but here was this raven-haired smooth talker making him go against himself all because he wanted some extra cash. But it was two hundred dollars. How could he pass that up? That was more than he had made all night and Vic was just one man. He wasn’t exactly bad-looking either. Freddy could see himself considering sex with Vic again if all goes well. Not for free, though. He wasn’t stupid.

Freddy was plenty of things. He was a kid just living in the moment with no ambition or goals for the future with questionable morals, but he wasn’t stupid.

Still, there’s a moment of latent hesitation where Freddy can’t even bring himself to turn the faucet on because he’s so shook up, but when he finally manages to he runs his hands underneath the tap. His fills his cupped hands with lukewarm water and splashes it all over his too hot face. Freddy can’t remember the last time he’s been this nervous. Even losing his virginity wasn’t _this_ nerve wrecking.

Yet here he was, staring at himself in the mirror, trying to psych himself up.

“Don't pussy out on me now. Nothing’s gonna happen. Nothing’s gonna happen unless you allow it. You're not gonna get hurt,” Freddy tells himself, taking deep breaths to steady out his nerves as he grips tightly at the rim of the sink. “You're a fucking professional. He’ll listen to every fucking word you say 'cause you're super sexy.”

This somehow convinces Freddy enough to the point where his hands stop shaking and his heart becomes less erratic. Freddy wipes the remnants of water off of his face and pushes a hand through his hair to soothe himself out of habit. He exits the commode and makes his way out of the bar with that determined stride of his, letting the flaps of his button up flow around his sides freely.

He makes it out onto the street and the men who had been chatting away before were now gone. Whether they went home or went inside was beyond Freddy’s knowledge, but that wasn’t his main concern right now. He makes his way over towards the alley he had become familiar with and pauses for a moment at the edge of the shadows. Freddy peers into the fathomless darkness of the alley, squinting his eyes to see if he can discern Vic’s silhouette despite it all, but he can’t make anything out aside from dumpsters.

He’s really got no choice now but to take the plunge and hope for the best. Freddy supposes he can back out right now and go home with his measly one-fifty, but what’s the point of living without taking a few risks here and there? Fredy’s sure he can handle his own if worst comes to shove, he’s just hoping it doesn’t come down to that.

All confidence he might have had during their conversation earlier drains from him as soon as he steps foot inside of the pitch blackness of the alleyway. It’s somehow a lot more darker than he remembers it being not even an hour ago and it takes his eyes a few moments to adjust before he can make anything out. Freddy hears a faint shuffling come from behind him and before he can react to it, his chest and the side of his face are being pressed up against the filthy brick wall.

The wind is slightly taken out of Freddy, but he rolls with the punches as, who he assumes to be, Vic pulls down his jeans with one swift yank. Freddy isn’t wearing any underwear because it makes his job a whole lot easier with them getting in the way and it speeds things along. He’s even still kind of slick and loose from an earlier client which makes this experience a lot less tedious. Freddy supposes that’s how Vic likes it anyway.

Vic seems like the type of guy who's always in a hurry and not having to take the time to prep Freddy must be a godsend for him. Then again, Vic probably isn’t courteous enough to make his partners comfortable enough either way. After all, Vic was a known sadist and he probably would’ve gotten off on it more if Freddy wasn’t slick already.

The older man behind him kicks his legs apart as far as they’ll go with his jeans pulled down around his ankles, causing Freddy to clench his body on reflex. His hole is slightly trembling from the anticipation of it all and he honestly has never been so wanton before now. Just the spontaneity of the moment and the fine line between safe and dangerous he was flirting with was enough to make him aroused. Freddy was half hard by the time Vic unzips his pants and poises the tip of his cock at his quivering entrance.

No words are exchanged between them and no warning is given to Freddy as Vic slides his full length into the kid’s recently used body. Freddy lets out a long deep moan at the sensation of Vic thrusting into his still tender body, making him ache even more. Vic didn’t feel too awfully big, but Freddy definitely felt his muscles contract around Vic’s girth on the initial breach. His body has had enough time to relax and he had made no attempt to loosen himself up beforehand, so there was an uncomfortable factor underlining the whole experience.

The guy before Vic had been pretty well-endowed as far as most of his clients go, so Freddy could certainly still feel him as Vic began to move inside him more frequently and Vic wasn’t exactly gentle. Then again, Freddy wouldn’t have expected anything less from the older man. Freddy could only press his chest flatter against the cold brick wall and stick his ass out more as Vic went to town on him.

Vic drops one hand down to grip at Freddy’s hip while the other goes up to tangle a hand in the boy’s already disheveled hair. Vic yanks back on it hard until Freddy’s head is bowed perfectly backwards, exposing the pale colomn of his neck that had been previously hidden by the collar of his button up. Vic bends down and kisses at the heated skin, stopping only to bite it occasionally as he thrusts shallowly into Freddy’s clenching hole.

It isn’t until now that Freddy realizes how many more rules he’s broken with Vic already. First of all, he’s aware that Vic isn’t wearing a condom as he fucks him raw and now he’s leaving marks all over his neck, but the funny thing about it is, is that Freddy doesn’t really give a flying fuck. All Freddy cares about is this precise moment of being stuck between Vic and a hard place as he’s thoroughly fucked within an inch of his life.

“Yeah, you like that don’t you, you little slut,” Vic asks rhetorically, hot breath washing over Freddy’s damp neck as he pulls harder on his hair. “You like the way my cock fills up that dirty hole of yours.”

All Freddy can do is grip futily at the dirty wall as he moans in response, expressing his enthusiasm through unintelligible combinations of syllables. Vic slams his hips even harder against Freddy’s backside as the kid’s moans beckon him on to draw out even more of those lovely sounds. Not many people felt the same way, but Vic absolutely loved sloppy seconds. Especially with a fine piece of ass such as Freddy.

“I can still feel how loose you are from the guy before me, you filthy skank,” Vic degrades, hissing certain syllables on randomized thrusts inward. “He fuck you as good as me, baby?”

Freddy realized Vic had asked him a legitimate question and he struggled to find the words to respond accordingly. Vic pulls on his hair as if to remind him of this fact, so Freddy decides to go with the most neutral reply he can muster up at the moment.

“No,” Freddy pants breathlessly, wanting to be more vocal so he can prove he’s worth the two hundred, but failing.

“That’s right, bitch. Nobody can fuck you as good as I can. If anything, _you_ should be paying _me_ ,” Vic informs him, all while keeping up his punishing pace. “You should be so lucky to get the drilling of a lifetime. Maybe one of these nights me and Eddie can get a few of the boys together and pull a train on you. I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you whore?”

Everything is lost on Freddy as he comes untouched with only Vic’s words and the sensation of Vic’s cock slamming into his over sensitized prostate. Freddy trembles as he strains to stand on the tips of his toes from the intensity of his orgasm, clenching all of his muscles around Vic’s cock like a tight vice as he spurts all over the brick wall in front of him. Freddy lets out a pitiful little whimper as if it hurts him to do so and tries to hold onto the flat surface of the grimy wall as Vic continues to have his way with him.

Vic catches up to his own orgasm shortly after, not being one to draw out the moment unnecessarily long. He’s definitely got more bang for his buck as he messily finishes inside of Freddy’s spasming channel, something Freddy has never allowed before until now and probably shouldn’t have allowed at all. But what’s done is done and feeling Vic’s gushing hot release spurting inside of him is more satisfying than it should be.

Freddy can feel every spasm and twitch of Vic’s cock even as he continues to pump his spent cock in and out of Freddy’s abused hole. He’s more sore than he was before and this becomes even more apparent when Vic pulls out of him, letting his release escape with him. Freddy groans at the feeling of being empty, yet feeling completely full at the same time. A part of him wishes Vic was still inside him, pumping an endless amount of come up his ass that he would be shitting out for days.

Eventually, all good things must come to an end, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it has to be the last time. Vic was a local and he knew Eddie very well apparently. Freddy was sure he’d be seeing more of the crook in the near future. He vaguely wonders if Vic had meant that thing about pulling a train on him and he can’t lie, it does sound quite exciting.

Freddy’s not stupid. He knows he’s flirting with disaster and that he shouldn’t associate with Vic too much, but as he pulls his pants up and accepts the now crumpled up bills, he can’t help but feel that odd sensation of adrenaline wash over him. He can still feel Vic’s release leaking out of him and it makes him shudder. Freddy smoothes a hand through his hair as an afterthought and Vic makes his departure, telling Freddy that he’ll _see him around_ like it’s a promise and maybe it is. Freddy can’t say that he minds either way.

Because he’s never felt more alive than he does right now.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was supposed to be more dark than it actually turned out to be, but perhaps that's a fic for another time.


End file.
